


Table For Two

by hollyand



Series: Bright Lights, Big City, Blind Date [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - British, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Carver/Merrill, Blind Date, Fluff, London, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 15:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11255607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyand/pseuds/hollyand
Summary: Modern-day London!AU. Fenris has been set up on a blind date by his friend, Bethany Hawke, with her older brother Garrett. Fenris reluctantly agrees to the date, not expecting anything to come of it… but soon realises how wrong he was.----By request, a re-telling of ‘Bright Lights, Big City, Blind Date’ from Fenris’s point of view.





	Table For Two

**Author's Note:**

> I published "Bright Lights, Big City, Blind Date" as part of an AU fic exchange challenge last November, and several commenters requested that I re-tell the story from Fenris's POV, so... here it is. I apologise that it took me so long! 
> 
> Background mentions of Carver/Merrill, which I haven't tagged as one of the main relationships because there's not nearly enough to clutter the Carver/Merrill AO3 tag with it.

6 P.M. Fenris frowned at the digital clock at the front of the black taxi he was in; he would be running late for this blind date, thanks to London’s rush-hour traffic. The taxi driver seemed pleasant enough; the congestion on the roads, however, was definitely _not_. Why hadn’t he left earlier? Why had he left this so late?

The Shard loomed before them like a glass pyramid that had been stretched beyond its limits, rising so much higher than all the other buildings around it to stab the sky with its topmost point, large enough to look so tantalisingly close while still being so frustratingly far away. The lights behind some of its glass panels were starting to flicker on as dusk fell over the city, the same way the streetlamps were being lazily roused into life by the coming night. Fenris glared at the skyscraper, as if it was the source of all his trouble, and turned his attention back to the cab driver.

‘Is there an alternative route we can take?’

The cab driver met Fenris’s eye in the rear-view mirror before he replied in a chirpy Cockney accent. ‘Coupla yards down the road, mate, and I can turn off an’ try some of the side streets? Might cost yer a bit extra, but no more than a fiver.’

Fenris nodded his assent. ‘That’ll do.’

Curse this… this blind date that Bethany had set him up on. Bethany was fast becoming a very good friend of his, something Fenris was grateful for in this vast, bustling yet sometimes lonely city, and it was proving impossible to say no to her on many things. Including when she’d offered to set Fenris up on a blind date with her brother.

‘I am not interested in Carver,’ Fenris had told her flatly.

‘No no no, not Carver, silly,’ Bethany had chided him. ‘My older brother Garrett. You haven’t met him, but I think you’ll get on, if nothing else. Here, here’s a picture…’

The man Bethany showed him, Fenris had to admit, was handsome. _Very_ handsome. He could see the family resemblance between Bethany and the man in the photo, and it surprised him somewhat – especially given that he already knew Bethany’s twin, Carver, who… was definitely not Fenris’s type.

But this man… he was something else. Handsome and well-built, with Bethany’s dark hair and amber eyes, the man in the photo was tanned and relaxed, with an open, friendly face, and Fenris was… intrigued, if nothing else. He agreed to the date, partly out of curiosity, partly to stop Bethany pestering him; and now he was stuck in a taxi in heavy city traffic, fully aware of how late he was going to show up for the date. If only the man would still be waiting around by the time Fenris showed up – but even then, he didn’t want Bethany’s brother to think Fenris had stood him up. If nothing else because Bethany had become a very good friend ever since he’d moved to the city.

Fortunately the taxi driver seemed to know at least a little of what he was doing. The black cab made its way down winding side streets Fenris had no idea existed, and the Shard was moving ever closer to them, and Fenris thought that perhaps he would not end up being so late after all. Perhaps this was not going to be quite the disastrous start that he feared.

There was still the date itself, of course.

Not that Fenris’s love life hadn’t been completely free of its own messes. Danarius had been reluctant for Fenris to leave, but after that relationship – as horribly abusive as it was – had got so toxic that Fenris couldn’t stay, Danarius had decided to try to pursue him, but in London so far the man hadn’t found him. Whatever Danarius thought – the nerve of the man thinking that he could _own_ Fenris, as if people could be owned like property instead of being together of their own free will – as far as Fenris was concerned, it was over and Fenris was moving on.

The taxi eventually pulled up outside London Bridge Station, and Fenris opened his wallet to hand the man a set of crisp banknotes, inwardly wincing at the price that flashed up on the meter. Black cabs were expensive, but Fenris had been running so late it was really the only mode of transport open to him. He could only hope the date itself would be worth the dent in his wallet.

He stepped out onto the pavement, and stared up at the tall, pointed glass building in front of him. The restaurant he would be dining at was on the 32nd floor, roughly halfway up. From what Fenris had been told, restaurants in this building were rather fancy… and expensive, although the jury was out as to whether the food was actually worth the expense, or whether you were paying solely for the view over London.

Well. He would find out soon enough, Fenris supposed. Garrett Hawke seemed to be a man of taste and class, if nothing else, and only time would tell whether the evening turned out to be worthwhile or not. At least the view would be good.

Fenris made his way to the entrance and went through security. It was a relaxed enough experience, considering; but he supposed that security was tight for any building that was so tall, let alone one that was so dominant in the city skyline – if ‘dominant’ was the right word; ‘didn’t fit in with everything else around it’ was probably more like it – and allowed himself to be whisked up to the 32nd floor in the super-fast lift. He wasn’t quite as late as he feared he would be, which cheered him somewhat. And judging by the reflections he caught of himself on the external glass of the building, he still cut a smart enough figure for the restaurant despite his mad rush to get here.

Good. That was good.

‘You have a reservation, sir?’ the maître d’hôtel at the restaurant entrance asked Fenris as he drew near.

‘Yes. Table for two in the name of Hawke. I… may be a little late.’

The waiter nodded in confirmation, before flashing Fenris a polite smile. ‘Excellent, sir. Your companion is already here. I will take you to the table.’

Fenris followed the man through the restaurant – it was larger than Fenris expected, and there were many tables to weave in and out of – until the waiter gestured with a flourish to a table next to the tall glass window, where a dark-haired man with a neat beard was sitting, staring out of the window at the city traffic down below.

Even while seated at a table with a brilliant white tablecloth (so bright it was almost gleaming under the light above, let alone from the candlelight on the tabletop itself), Garrett Hawke cut a trim, dashing figure in his dark tailored suit; the figure of a successful businessman who commanded respect. However, upon looking up at Fenris, the man seemed very surprised to see him for some reason Fenris wasn’t able to discern.

Unexpectedly for Fenris, the eldest Hawke sibling was even more handsome in person than the photograph Bethany had showed him some days prior. He looked like someone who would make a pleasant enough date – though Fenris was alarmed at how all at once he couldn’t help wanting that this would turn out to be something more than just a pleasant date.

He couldn’t explain why.

There was a connection there that was indefinable and instantaneous, and Fenris wondered if Hawke could feel it too, or whether this was all up in his head.

‘You are Garrett Hawke?’ Fenris inquired; he desperately hoped Hawke’s surprised expression wasn’t due to anything negative about _him_ , but he found himself on his guard just in case.

‘I am,’ replied the man at the table, looking even more stunned than he was before. Fenris stared at him. As attractive as Hawke was – with a mellifluous baritone voice to match – his surprise caught Fenris very much by surprise. Surely Bethany had described him to her brother before the date? Why did Hawke seem so astonished by his appearance?

Well, there was only one thing to do: introduce himself and get on with dinner.

‘Fenris.’

‘Ah,’ Hawke said, as if that explained everything, before recovering himself. ‘I mean – sorry, where are my manners? – lovely to meet you.’

Fenris inclined his head in acknowledgement and sat down. There was a pause, as if Hawke was expecting Fenris to speak further, and Fenris decided, eventually, to break the silence.

‘I apologise for my lateness,’ he said, while folding his napkin into his lap. ‘I took a taxi from elsewhere in the city.’

‘Well, that’s rush hour traffic for you,’ Hawke answered pleasantly, although under Fenris’s gaze, he seemed nervous, and Fenris wondered why. ‘No need to worry. I was about to order some wine, actually. White or red?’

Fenris almost relaxed into a smile. No matter how well or badly this date went, ever since he’d quickly researched the restaurant yesterday, he’d been looking forward to the wine at this place all day. He studied the other man carefully as he answered. ‘Red.’

Hawke loosened his tie, a gesture that Fenris found curious – and unexplainably sexy. He watched the fingers fiddling and pulling at the knot, and briefly wondered what they would feel like tracing their way down his neck, his chest, before…

 _Stop, Fenris. Where are these thoughts coming from? You’ve only just met – you don’t know anything about this man. You do not want a repeat of Danarius_.

It was true. Fenris’s last relationship had ended some years ago; yet the funny thing about abusive relationships is that their effects stayed with you long after the relationship itself had died. Therapy had helped somewhat, over the years; yet Fenris felt sometimes that he still wore the scars as if they’d been tattooed onto his very skin, like the ones he already had.

Back in the present, however, Hawke had finished loosening his tie, and was now gazing at Fenris with a shyly apologetic smile.

‘I’m afraid,’ Hawke began, ‘I had no idea what you would look like – my sister merely gave me a name and assured me that was all I would need. It seems that Bethany didn’t have a picture of you to hand, so I am relieved that you found me.’

‘True,’ Fenris conceded. ‘I do not recall Bethany ever having taken a picture of me, and she instructed me to introduce myself to you.’

‘Yes, she told me. I was expecting someone who looked very different,’ and here Hawke’s eyes flicked up and down, and Fenris felt pleased to note a possible sign of interest at last, ‘and I was… rather surprised when you showed up. In—in a good way, of course! Don’t get me wrong!’

Fenris chuckled to himself, and Hawke reached up to scratch the back of his neck. This was curious; he seemed to be having an effect on Hawke, and it was too early to tell yet what exactly that effect was.

That was… unexpected. Hawke was a _very_ handsome man, and surely could have his pick of anyone in London. Yet the look in his eyes seemed to indicate… interest?… even as his gestures indicated nervousness?

Curious indeed.

The wine arrived – red wine for both of them, and of a vintage Fenris liked. He was able to relax a little as he felt the first sip of the dark liquid slip down his throat, warming him pleasantly, while Hawke looked at him expectantly, over the brim of his own wine glass as he drank.

‘So,’ Hawke began. ‘Tell me about yourself, Fenris.’

Hawke proved to be much more of a talker than Fenris was, but Fenris was more than happy to listen. Hawke had a pleasant voice, and he had led an interesting life. Fenris was so fascinated that he barely noticed that Hawke had spilled gravy down his shirt until the latter fussed about it and took off for the toilets, leaving Fenris alone at the table to contemplate how much better than expected the date was going. He’d been only too happy to swap numbers when Hawke offered, although he wondered why his date seemed so nervous. 

***

It was… most unusual. Fenris had been thinking about Hawke ever since their date two days ago, something he had not experienced for… a long time. At least they’d swopped numbers after the date; he knew he definitely wanted to see the man again.

The date had ended most frustratingly. After what had happened with Danarius, Fenris was often on his guard around new people. Yet there had just been something about Hawke that Fenris trusted, and even more surprisingly, something that he had wanted. So badly.

And yet… when Hawke had leaned in to kiss him, it had been Fenris who had pulled back. Not because he hadn’t wanted to – oh, _how_ he had wanted to – but because… he really should be on his guard. It was only the first date; he would not – he should not… Fenris wasn’t even sure why he’d pulled back.

If he ever saw Hawke again – if Hawke ever gave him another chance, another date – Fenris would make sure he would not hold back next time.

If there _was_ a next time.

At least tonight he had sparring practice to focus on. Boxing always _was_ good at taking Fenris’s mind off things; fighting was a discipline he could easily fall back on, even if he had to put it out of his mind that he was sparring with the brother of the man he had been on a date with two days ago.

It was fortunate, then, that Carver was nothing like his older brother. And, while Carver was usually a strong and focused and difficult-to-beat partner that Fenris usually appreciated practising his skills with, he was comically (to Fenris, anyway) distracted and easy to best as of just a few minutes ago.

‘You are distracted,’ smirked Fenris at the look of surprise on Carver’s face after Fenris had just landed a right hook on the latter’s ear.

‘I was not,’ Carver retorted indignantly, though the embarrassed and guilty look on his face told Fenris he was right. ‘Merrill – the receptionist – came through the door, and I thought she might need me for something, that’s all.’

Fenris snorted his mirth. ‘You have a crush.’

Carver lunged to throw a jab at his head; Fenris blocked him expertly. ‘No, I don’t.’

‘And I’m betting,’ Fenris parried him again, ‘that she does not know.’

‘It’s not like that.’ Carver looked annoyed now. ‘Hey, that’s cheating!’

‘What is?’ Fenris attempted an innocent look as Carver glared at him. (Blue eyes, not amber brown; that was the one thing Fenris was thankful for – if this were Bethany he were boxing against, Fenris was sure he would be losing miserably.) ‘That was a legitimate uppercut, well blocked by yourself.’

‘Distracting me with – with – with whether you think I have a crush or not, to get that punch of yours in like that, I mean,’ an irritable Carver answered him.

Fenris smirked again. ‘I think Merrill had you well distracted already,’ he returned evenly, to which Carver scowled and came at him again.

Still, it was a good workout, exactly what Fenris had hoped for when he’d arrived at the gym earlier; and when he and Carver had finished sparring, both of them picked up their discarded T-shirts and towels and made to leave the studio to shower and change.

Carver headed out of the studio door first and stopped in his tracks; and through the door, Fenris caught the unexpected sight of Bethany rolling her eyes at her twin.

Fenris followed Carver out the door, and stopped completely dead himself, however, at the even more unexpected sight of Hawke.

‘Hello, brother,’ Carver was saying, folding his arms in what Fenris assumed (from behind him) was a defensive pose. ‘Bethany didn’t say she was bringing _you_ along.’

But Fenris could only focus on his sparring partner’s brother, his date from a few nights ago, staring at him open-mouthed as Fenris stood there, embarrassingly topless, dripping with sweat. Hawke’s eyes raked appreciatively over his body, and Fenris merely watched.

He _wanted_. And he _had_ to let him know before he walked out of his life forever.

Bethany cleared her throat pointedly; and Hawke, suitably chastised, blushed bright red. It was endearing, Fenris thought. And… encouraging, certainly.

He… wanted to make him blush like that again.

‘Come on, Carver,’ Bethany sang, grabbing her twin’s elbow and attempting to pull him towards the changing rooms. ‘Get your clothes on and we’ll get something to eat. Garrett can catch up with his… new friend.’

‘New friend?’ Fenris thought he heard Carver hissing at her as the twins walked away. ‘Bethany, have you been trying to set him up with  _one of my clients_?’

‘So,’ Hawke started, as if to break the awkward silence that had descended upon them. ‘You train with Carver?’

Fenris was surprised; hadn’t Bethany already told him this before the date? Fenris had assumed Hawke already knew. Or maybe Hawke did, and was just trying to make conversation. ‘Indeed,’ Fenris answered, unsure how else to respond.

Hawke seemed unsatisfied by this response; he shifted uneasily on the spot, and Fenris merely watched him, awaiting some further insight into the other man’s state of mind that he could respond to.

Some men might have covered up the silence with prattle and chatter, but Fenris never liked to say more than was absolutely necessary. Giving other people the space and time to gather their own thoughts, to be comfortable in his presence, was something Fenris had always prided himself on being good at.

However, he wasn’t sure how well this was working on Hawke. Watching the thoughts that seemed to flicker across Hawke’s handsome face as he fidgeted and shifted, Fenris could only hope he hadn’t somehow blown it.

‘Carver is my younger brother,’ Hawke eventually said. ‘I didn’t know he taught you.’

‘He does not,’ Fenris corrected him, and the look on Hawke’s face – was that surprise? Fenris wasn’t sure – compelled him to explain further. ‘We were sparring. I trained elsewhere. Carver was recommended to me when I moved to the city. I sought him out, as a way of honing and practising my skills.’

‘Ah,’ Hawke said. ‘And… how do you know Bethany?’

Now it was Fenris’s turn to look surprised. ‘Through Carver.’

‘Of course,’ Hawke said, looking like he was inwardly kicking himself. Fenris couldn’t help feeling sorry for him; if he’d known that Bethany had told her brother so little about himself, he would have volunteered far more information about himself on their date than he already did.

Perhaps in future, Fenris thought, I should assume that my dates know nothing about me before I meet them.

Not that Fenris wanted to date anyone else. There was still something about Hawke that just… _got_ him, somehow; something that compelled him to want to know more, to _want_ more, and it wasn’t just that Hawke was handsome and pleasant company…

‘I should get some clothes on,’ Fenris said, and as he turned to walk to the changing room he thought he heard Hawke mutter something about ‘needing a drink’ before he left.

If that was true, there was only one place to find Hawke afterwards. There were no other pubs in the vicinity, unless Hawke was leaving the area entirely. Either way, Fenris had to be quick if he was going to catch up with him.

Fenris showered quickly and impatiently; he had hardly dried himself off before pulling his clothes on and virtually running out of the gym. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carver attempting to flirt with the receptionist, Merrill, as he sped away; but Fenris was far too busy to stop and say his goodbyes to either of them.

He _had_ to get that man. Before he lost him forever.

Fenris did not know if Hawke would be the best thing that ever happened to him or the most beautiful disaster, but he could not, he _would_ not, let this man simply go without at least attempting to make up for their aborted kiss at the end of their date. Hawke surely could not be worse than Danarius, at any rate. And Fenris had got through that stronger and wiser; this could not be worse.

Fenris burst through the doors of the pub – which was thankfully quite empty – and fixed his eyes on the one man he was looking for, sat at the bar on his own staring forlornly into his pint, and Fenris’s heart ached at the sight of him.

He marched over and put his hand down on the bar in front of him; a little too hard, perhaps, but Fenris was too agitated to care, too anxious to be noticed before Hawke slipped away again.

‘Fenris.’ Hawke seemed shocked, surprised. ‘What—what brings you here?’

 _You_ , Fenris wanted to answer as he stared into the other man’s amber eyes… but no, he had to compose himself. To offer Hawke some semblance of a reasonable explanation for his erratic behaviour.

‘I have been thinking of you,’ Fenris began; before him Hawke looked visibly emotional, and it encouraged Fenris to tell him the truth. ‘In fact, I have been able to think of little else.’ He paused. ‘Command me to go, and I shall.’

Hawke’s expression changed; he no longer looked surprised, or nervous, or hunted, but allowed himself to fully show the desire on his face that Fenris hoped he had felt. His lips parted, almost in wonder, and Fenris rejoiced at seeing the man clearly returned his own feelings.

‘No need,’ Hawke finally replied, standing up.

Fenris hesitated, for just a split second, and at Hawke’s welcoming smile Fenris knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He sealed his lips against Hawke’s, his hands everywhere, and pushed him against the bar in his passion, eliciting a grunt from the dark-haired man. Fenris pressed the full length of his body tightly against Hawke as they deepened the kiss, and oh it was exquisite, hearing Hawke’s pants and moans of pleasure until Fenris found himself spun round and pushed up against the bar…

‘Perhaps… we should move on,’ Fenris murmured, as they finally broke apart.

‘Agreed,’ Hawke panted. ‘I think the barman might soon want us to leave.’

Fenris merely chuckled, and leaned in to kiss Hawke again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hello at [hollyand-writes.tumblr.com](http://hollyand-writes.tumblr.com)


End file.
